Five Minutes 'Til Self Destruct
by BraveChicken
Summary: Mikey comes down with laryngitis and loses his voice...who knows how long he'll be able to last. Especially in THIS family, namely, Raphael. Lots of awesomeness inside! Read up!
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I am not currently in possession of the rights to the turtles, however, given the fact nickelodeon has them right now I say: I have all dibs on Mikey- I won the nose-goes! Eat that SUCKERS! woo! Yeah! okay, so, now that that's settled, enjoy the fic =) **

**A/N: Okay, yes, this _is_ indeed my first "official" TMNT fic! Woo! Buuuut, I will have you know, I have read quite a few fanfictions over the past year, along with my extremely long history with the turtles growing up. This allows me to have read nearly every comic of theirs, seen every single episode of the 2k3 version atleast 50 times through, all movies involving turtles (and, yes, I am currently cursing Michael Bay for his idiotic origin disaster to come),and so on, so forth. This is just a little 'plot bunny' I have been thinking about (and surprised nobody has truly tried before!) for quite some time. Forgive my lack of _finnesse_ in my writing, I'm really a lot better at art class, but have been told to have potential. (Oh, and constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!) So, without further ado, here ya be!**

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_Latex, hyoallergetic cleaners, and sterilized wood- _that_ is the definition of the ever famous doctor smell. I _hate_ doctor smell. Not that I've ever smelled an _actual_ doctor room, before, but, Donny pretty much has that covered. Him with all his s-_

"Mike, open your mouth for me, kay?"

Mike gave a sigh while finally opening his mouth, sticking his tongue out in the process. Being sick always caused Michelangelo to somewhat 'regress' back into his terrible twos, leaving the three brothers to make a valiant effort to care for a conniving and discourteous, hyperactive turtle. That, coupled with Donatello's sudden change in demeaner often made for an interesting time of sickness. It's as if the instance one of the turtles became sick caused the usually benign Donatello to transform into the strict and relentless 'doctor Don'.

After a couple seconds for Don to look around, he finally spoke,"Well, it doesn't seem to be getting any better." With a pointed glare straight at Michelangelo, the purple-clad turtle continued, "In fact, it seems to be getting worse. Mike, you do realize that if you keep this up your cold can easily turn into something much more serious." Thinking it best to allow his comment to sink a bit into the younger turtle's head, Donatello silently walked to the other side of the room to retrieve some medicine.

Mike figeted a bit in the seat that is usually used as Don's "thinking" chair, but was now being used as a improv examination chair. _But I feel fine, honestly. Okay, not honestly, my head aches- actually my entire body aches, my head just seems to ache a smidge more. And I'm totally chilled to the bone just sitting here! Heh, guess Donny wasn't lying about my fever coming back... but what really takes the cake is my throat! Dude! Its like I so much as breathe and its burning from the back of my mouth down into my chest!_

From the other side of the room Don gave a barely audible "ah-hah!" as he finally found the medicines he was looking for and began the short trek back to the now shrinking turtle. Of all the brothers, Mike was ill most frequently. Considering that they're giant _coldblooded _turtles living in the damp and drafty sewers of what has to be one of the dirtiest places for anybody to live, the three older turtles had nearly rock hard immune systems. This could be shown in the factual knowledge that each turtle only managed to get a slight cold once every two or three years. Mikey, on the other hand, found himself to be sick once every three to four months, give or take. And, unlike the predictable and usually mellow cases of what can be refferred to as the common cold the three eldest turtles found themselves with, Mikey's illnesses often varied. It was always a guessing game as to what type of illness Mike would find himself with along with how severe. So it was safe to say that, of all the turtles, Mikey lost the 'healthy genes' bet.

"Okay, Mikey, I want you to take these after you eat a _light_ meal, and I mean a piece of toast and maybe a small amount of soup, got it? And this time, actually rest afterwards. I mean eyes closed. No comics, no video games, no horror movie to keep you up when you need to sleep this off. Take it easy. Am I clear?" Donatello said in his best 'I'mtheresidentdoctor' voice.

Having heard (and dutifully disobeyed) this order many times in his life, Mike began to open his mouth to say something in protest only for Don to send him an icy glare his way causing him to wince from the shear seriousness of the look.

Mike's flinch didn't go unnoticed as suddenly Donny's face melted from doctor to brother just like that.

Squating down to Mike's level, Donny reached out a three-fingered hand and placed it on top of Mike's shoulder in a familiar and comforting gesture. "I'm just worried, Mike. You know that. I just want you to get better-"

"Each time it's something different, blah blah. I know Don, no worries." This time it was Don's turn to wince at how harsh Mike's voice had gotten just within the last five minutes of his latest 'checkup', "Guess I'm just tired is all, but I did hear you mention a _meal_, so I'll just go do that."

"Somethings just never change, do they?" Don laughed.

"Hey, I can't keep you on your toes _all _the time, Donny." Mike replied with a smile, " 'Sides, I might be a little under the weather, but a turtle has a stomach, right?"

"Right." Don said rolling his eyes. And, with that, Mike ran out the door and into the kitchen.

Don was about to continue work on his latest project when he looked down to see none other than the meds Mike was supposed to take. _Why that little...!_ Don fumed storming out of the lab-

"oomph!"

In Don's irritated, yet deep down slightly amused, state he hadn't realized that Leonardo had been just outside the lab, resulting in Don's head becoming acquainted with Leonardo's plastron.

"Oh, sorry Leo, didn't see you there..." Donny mumbled sheepishly.

"You alright, Don?" Leo asked pointing towards the pills clenched in Don's hand. Confused, Don looked down to his hand. Of course,Leo, the ever-vigilante would notice _that _right away. Realizing what Leo thought, he quickly replied, "These? Oh, no, they're not mine. Mike _forgot_ them in my lab, _again."_

Leo let out a small chuckle hiding his own worry ridden face just barely, but not enough. "He never _has _been a very good patient. Or _listener_, for that matter."

"No, he's a good listener. It's just selective hearing."

"A valid argument, I'd say. How is he holding up? Despite being- " Leo asked gesturing toward the pills once again, this time searching for the right words. It wasn't often that someone could cause Leonardo to be at a loss for words, but, then again, that's Mikey for ya. "..._mischevious_ as ever."

Donatello sighed in a way only a loving brother can, "Real low fever, sore throat, aches, and a small headache. If he doesn't rest soon, it's sure to spike and most likely become worse. Which reminds me.." the intellectual turtle raised his arm, pills in hand, and walked off towards the kitchen once again, silently praying his brother actually heeded his earlier reminder to have a light meal.

"I see. Anything I can do to help?" The blue-clad ninja replied, feeling suddenly uneasy about the state of Mike's health.

"Not right now." Donatello called over his shoulder.

The sight Don saw upon enetering the kitchen was enough to make him stop dead in his tracks. There was Mikey actually eating what looked to be the light meal Donatello so kindly prescribed of him.

"Ah. You doing that to make up for what you, ahem, _left _in my lab, hmm?" Donny said as Michelangelo looked up at him sheepishly. What it actually told Donny was that Mike was feeling worse for the wear than he had even ten minutes ago.

Mikey's lack of verbal response finally set Donny's doctor radar off. Walking over to where the orange-loving terrapin sat at the table, Don reached out to touch his head. "Hmm... you seem a little warmer. Go lay down on the couch, I'll be right there." Mike merely nodded and stumbled over towards the couch as directed, being too miserable not to comply.

_Geesh, who turned down the temperature? It's freezing out here! _Finally to his destination, Mikey plopped down immediately and situated himself the best he could. _Blanket, blanket, where the shell is the blanket? Eh, Don will find it for me, right now I just need to stay warm. Dude, I can't stand being sick! _

By the time Donny actually showed up, nearly two minute after the turtle in orange had arrived, Mikey was already asleep. Normally, Don would have covered him up, leaving the water and pills next to him, but what was originally looking like one of Mike's less serious illnesses was turning out to progress much too quickly for Donatello to be that easy on it.

"Mikey, can you wake up for a minute?" Donny said just loud enough for him to stir. "Come on, Mike, just for a second, okay?"

Sure enough, two big, glossy green eyes peered up at him just long enough for Don to get him to swallow the pills and finish the glass of water before they were summoned to rest.

Once he was sure Mike was comfortable, Don left to grab the thermometer. He was back just as quick, popping the thermometer into Mike's mouth with practiced ease.

"Man, Mike, you don't look so good..." Don thought out loud. Finally grabbing the thermometer from his mouth, Don glanced at it and what he saw troubled him.

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**Yes. My Mikey has green eyes, not blue ones or even brown ones. =) And also, yes, this is a bit short. And yeah, I know, so far my story isn't all that exciting. Or funny. Thats a prologue for ya. Well.. as you know from the summary, things will get very funny very fast! No worries! And, maybe this has been done before (obviously the sick part has) but the whole, Mikey not talking thing... yeah, havent seen a whole story based on that thought alone so... I'm kinda excited... even though you haven't seen any of that so far in the chapter..heheh. yeah. My brain is mush. Oh well. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, well, I must say I am truly ecstatic at how many people are watching this story! Thanks for all the views guys! And a special thankyou for the two wonderful reviews I recieved, I truly appreciate both of them! As with most authors on this site, reviews are more than welcome and I would love to hear some feedback because I have the imagination for this but the skill can't quite keep up. Now without further ado- Chapter two! (Poet and I didn't even know it)**

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I had to wake Mike up immediately, his temperature was about as high as I've ever seen it. Temperatures were always tricky for us, given what we are. Usually I can go off of feel, the typical back of the hand idea since we're all about the same temperature, however,I did calculate an average temperature for us a while back. Finding an average temperature then recording how we reacted to various temperature changes. However, if we were human, Mike would be very close to a trip to the hospital, however, we're not. We happen to be turtles and I happened to be the resident medic. Which meant I needed to get his fever down ASAP, thus waking him up so I could get him into a cold shower.

"Mikey, Mike. Wake up." I said, shaking him as gently as I could with the panic rising inside me, "C'mon Mike, open your eyes, kay?"

"Mmm..Don...Ouch." Mike choked out. The entire mumble was just above a whisper and even then I could hear how raspy his voice had gotten. If it sounded that bad I sure as shell wouldn't want to have to be the one to say it.

"Good Mike, okay, I need you to sit up." The look he gave me said it all, but I ignored it practically lifting him into a sitting position, the movement provoking a very heavy and painful sounding cough that racked his entire body. I couldn't help but feel a little useless since the only thing I could do was cheer him on and rub small circles onto his shell in hopes of calming him down a bit. After about two minutes the coughing subsided leaving him panting on the couch beside me.

"Don..."

"Shh, Mike, you have a high fever. Ready to take a shower?" I stated rather than asked. As often as Mike was sick (and how much he eats and what he ends up eating, for that matter), he had developed what we would call his "iron stomach", so even though I knew it to be a common sideffect of a high fever, I only half expected him to vomit. But better to be safe than sorry, I wanted his fever down quickly.

A small wimper escaped Mikey has he reluctantly shook his head yes.

"Okay, on the count of three. One..two...three..."

I never really realized how light my brother was. I mean, yeah,he's the youngest so of course he was smaller than all of us, I mean, that's sort of how we figured Mike to be the youngest. That, and given his personality things just sort of fit that way. But I guess I never really took in just how lucky he was to have his metabloism. Without that, Mikey would undoubtedly be on the heavier side. But, of course, as with his athleticism, he was very lucky. Though I suppose he wasn't all luck, given the familiarity of this situation right now.

Though Mikey was often the most receptive when it came to affection, unashamedly so, Mike never liked being out for the count. Sure, he would milk nearly all of his injuries or illnesses, but only_ after_ the worst was over. It was common knowledge that when Mikey got sick his michevious meter increased by eighty percent and the likelyhood of him following directions was slim to none. Which made his silence a tad unnerving, especially since I was so used to him blabbing about who knows what all the time. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have my eyes pealed and my guard up. Just like I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surpirsed when Mikey just plopped down onto the shower floor without so much as a plea for help or poor joke about animal abuse. I decided it was about time for my luck to turn around and started up the water before Mike could finish plotting for his escape. Mike gasped as the cool water showered ontop of him and I mentally kicked myself for not giving him a heads up. "Sorry Mike." I said as sincerely as possible. He nodded and I took it as his typical 'no problemo' response.

"Just ten minutes, alright, Mike?" I said, trying my best to give him a silver lining. Mike only nodded, still looking downward. After a minute or two of tense silence I asked, "So, how are you feeling, bro?" Mikey seemed to contemplate it for a while, scrunching up his beak in the near comical way he always did when he was evaluating something carefully. "I've been better... but I've also been worse." He replied just above a whisper. I couldn't help but cringe at how bad his voice had gotten and based on how he tried to clear his throat, it hadn't escaped Mikey either. Unfortunately for him, that only served to agitate it worse along with start up a whole new coughing fit and for the second time in the past five minutes, I found myself rubbing his shell willing his coughing to subside. It took a little bit longer, but he eventually calmed down.

"Guess I won't be making any big speaches any time soon." he said sounding like a chainsmoker after a ten mile run in the mountains.

"That's probably for the best." I said, giving him a gentle nudge on his arm. After waiting a second or two to catch his breath I asked, "So, other than a wicked cough, what sounds like a very sore throat, and the obvious high temperature, got any symptoms? Achyness, etcetra?"

Mike took a deep breath, wincing when it hitched and replied, "Well...I can honestly say... Im not hungry," he grinned, then swallowed, "bit hard to catch my breath, though." He rasped. I nodded, not sure if he was through or not. After a couple seconds he continued, "Aches...everywhere...Bit woozy...m'tired, Don." He finished looking up at me, his green eyes with the tell tale glossiness detailing how he truly wasn't one hundred percent.

I gave a sympathetic smile, filing away his symptoms for analysis later, "Well, looks like your times almost up. Got about a minute to go." Mike just gave me a thumbs up, not even supressing a yawn only for him to wince and rub his throat for doing so.

By the end of the shower, Mike was a shivering mess, so I wrapped him up in towels and half carried him to his room passing Raph on the way. One look was all it took and he changed his tragectory immediately following me into Mikey's room.

Once Mike was settled in bed he was out like a light, so I walked over to where Raph stood in the doorway watching. He always was leery of illnesses. I don't know if it was because he didn't want to contract said illness or if it was just his whole tough turtle act or what, but it had started to become expected in most situations. Sort of his own unique way of showing he cares. Try as he might, Raph's heart is just too large to hide.

"What is it this time?" He grunted.

"I'm not really sure. Right now it just sounds like a bad case of the flu or something. Nothing life threatening." I could tell by the way he was eyeing me that Raph was worried. I've lived with him long enough to not take it personally, it was just something Raph did. Sort of a habit that was just too Raph to break.

"Wan' me ta keep an eye on 'im?"

I contemplated this for a moment. It just seemed to progress a little too quickly for me to really believe this was just a simple flu. Not that I had lied to Raph, I really did think it was the flu. Just how serious it would get, however... I had a sinking feeling it would be an interesting next couple of days. Whenever Mike got sick, it always was. But a watch, though it would decrease how many escape attempts and other evil Mikey plots, would be a bit much. "Nah, I'll just check on him about every hour or so. I set a trashcan next to his bed, so he should be fine."

Raph grinned, "As long as I'm not on the vomit squad, I'm good."

I made a face, both at the horrible name and at the opportunity to clean up puke. "Raph, that sounded a bit too much like Mikey for comfort."

"Eh? I'm gonna go make a sammich"

"Sandwhich." I corrected.

"No, sammich. Sandwhich is for the feint of heart." He retorted walking away. I just sighed, rolling my eyes. _Pick your battles, Don. Pick your battles._

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I woke up with the same dry itch in my throat, trying for the life of me to atleast slightly avoid the burning cough working it's way though my chest all the way up to the top of my head. Being sick sucked, and with that, I failed as it once again racked my whole body with its stupid, thunderous roar. It had been a miserable two days. Thats right, two whole days of nothing but coughing. After about a minute of straight, uncontrollable lung removal, I grabbed the water sitting next to my bed trying my best to swallow down the precious organ I just about coughed up.

The good news, I had my appetite back. The bad news, I nearly die choking on it each time because my throats too dang sore. Not to mention how I'm forced to be on bed rest for at least one more day so I don't "make things worse than they already are" because I need to "get healthy as soon as possible." Call me crazy, but I don't think losing your sanity to boredom is a good kind of 'getting well', strategically speaking that is. However, a good sammich is where it's at. And besides, not being able to move makes me cranky, and I've been told I'm no party when I'm cranky. So really, I should escape my bed. It's for the safety of the family as a whole.

With a new found determination, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, blinking away the dots that flooded my vision and ignoring how it made my head throb. I grabbed a comic book of mine as I side stepped towards my door. Then, as quietly as possible, I turned the nob to the right and as soon as it wouldn't turn anymore, I froze waiting for an alarm or something of the sort to occur...nothing. _Of course Don didn't set an alarm there! That would be ridiculous! A good little patient like me... _I opened the door just a crack and peered out into the lair. _No one to be see left, right, directly downstairs... looks like the coast is- wait! Ceiling...? _I slowly turned my eyes skyward only to feel like an idiot when nothing was there. _Heh. Guess I really shouldn't watch those horror movies. A fine example of the two-timing power my imagination holds right there. _

Well, it was a hard feat, but I managed to sneak my way to the kitchen successfully. I had just begun building myself a monster sammich when I heard my three bros from what sounded like the dojo. _Oh, right... they had practice with Leo... so I sort of feel dumb for sneaking around now. Dang, I could have had atleast ten more minutes if I would have thought about that! Sheesh...As long as they don't go to my room or come to the kitchen... who am I kidding, this is the first place they'll look when they realize I'm not in my room, which is in three. two. _

_"_Mikey!"

I blew out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, my eyes darting all around me. _Where can I hide? _ I nearly jumped out of my shell when I turned around to see Raph standing there, arms folded. "Gonna rat me out, Raphie boy?" I asked, though admittedly, with the way my voice was sounding lately, it came out more like a fifth grader playing the recorder for the first time who had just gotten over a nasty case of bronchitus.

There was a second or two of sheer silence, and I thought that maybe he was gonna be a good older brother and help me taste freedom for the first time in days. And then he smirked. Now, much like the many different 'looks' Leo gives, each smirk has a meaning. This was one I didn't like too well, it said, _'I've been waiting for leverage like this all week'_ and wreaked of payback. Hey, it's not _my _fault the turtle can't take a little prank. You'd think a tough guy like him could handle a small butterfly in his room. A small, pregnant butterfly. With some friends. Or five. But, _still. _

I watched in horror as he opened his mouth and pulled out my last trick, the puppy dog eyes. Works like a charm on Leo, even without the lip, Don takes a while longer but always breaks eventually. Raph, on the other hand, doesn't fall for it so easily, but he's still not immune. I put everything I could into it this time and (with the help of being sickly) even managed to put a pitiful wimper and a slight, choking cough in there as well. Well, apparently Raph's heard-much like his skull-is made of stone, because his smirk only grew larger, and more dangerous. I couldn't believe my ears (well, whatever we had as ears, anyway). My own partner in crime-_selling me out?_

"Leo! Don! He's in the kitchen!"

I guess the shock on my face did a better job than the puppy dog eyes because next thing I heard was Raph... _apologizing? _

_"_Mike, m'sorry bro, but I _hate_ bugs."

Not an apology- dirt in the wound. _Shell. The wrath of Leo awaits. _It must have been record time because before I knew it, I was hearing the roaring that is a lecture in my general direction.

"Michelangelo! What are you doing?"

"Well... uh, ya see...you know, to get the whole 60 minutes a day and all... I-" and just like that the coughing started up once again. _Maybe I'll get off the hook now. I mean, I am sort of dying here as is, no point in killing me twice, unless its to put me out of my misery. Shell, its hard to breathe right now. Did I see a wince? I think I saw a wince. Okay, great, I hope he knows its not his fault I started to cough. _At this point I couldn't even think, my throat felt like it was literally on fire and scraped raw from the tires of the firetrucks come to follow.

Before I could even process it, I was being ushered over to an empty seat in the kitchen. After another minute, the pain seemed to die down a bit and I could start to hear my brothers again.

"Is that normal Don?"

"Raph, get him a glass of water."

"Calm down, Mikey. Deep breathes..."

I was trying to catch my breath when I felt something cool placed in my hand, _oh water! I will never foresake thee again! _Just as I started to down the whole glass, I felt a tug on my hand and looked over to see Donny placing his hand on the glass. "Don't chug it, Mikey. Slow and steady."

**'kill joy.'**

...wait a minute! No way. Calm. Stay calm, Mikey. Just drink the nice turtle water and freak out then. I finished the glass at about one fourth of the speed I wanted to and twice the speed Donny wanted me to, but I had something larger on my mind. _okay, Mikey, focus. You probably just didn't hear right after your_ coughing_ fit. okay, deep breath. _

**'Donny?' **_Oh shell no!_

**_'DONNY! Don!'_**At this point, my brain was moving so fast, I don't think I even processed half the stuff that was _supposed_ to be coming out of my mouth, but one thing was for sure. I was talking, but they weren't hearing a thing. I know it wasn't the other way around, because I could hear Leo telling me to calm down. I could hear Don answering Leo's questions. I could hear Raph trying not to laugh at what I'm sure is one of the craziest faces I have ever made. Really, the one thing I couldn't hear was...was... no way in _shell_. _Did I just...lose my... voice!_

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**Aha! Thought I wouldn't ever get the story rolling, huh? Well now it's the fun part, so hopefully it will indeed be better in the next chapter. The ending seemed a bit rushed to me, but I dunno, tell me what you think. I enjoy reviews! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Never thought I'd have to say this but, I'm sorry for taking so long! I have excuses but just read the story, it's more interesting anyway! Whelp, it finally starts to pick up! And please, please, please PLEASE review! It makes my day when you do :) hope ye like it!**

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_This has to be a dream, right? I used to get fever dreams all the time when I was sick. I thought I grew out of them though. Well, what goes around comes around again, right? I don't remember having such a hard time breathing during them, though. Huh. Fever dream... yeah, that's totally what this is, so maybe I didn't lose my voice after all..._

"Mikey! Michelangelo, calm down!- what's going on, Don?"

_Leo? Good question there bro, I would ask myself but I'm sort of...at a loss for words, heh. _

"I think he's hyperventalating."

_Hyperventalating?_ _Well...okay then, that makes more sense than fever dreams. Explains my bros being here in the first place- last thing I need is to start dreaming about my brothers. Of course when it comes to Raph, then I'd know it's a nightmare. heh. Well, this isn't a very pleasant experience, when did Johnny Storm take shelter in my lungs anyway? Wait! Does this mean I really can't talk? _

"Hyperventa-! Don! What do we do?"

_Denial. I am SO in denial right now. I'll tell you what to do- tell Mr. Voice stealer to give me back my breath because I'm dyin' here! _

"We need to calm him down-"

_If I had any breath right now, I would have snorted loud and proud. Calm me down? After I just found out I lost my voice? Yeah, good luck with that. Unless you can get Raph to leave, I won't be "calm" for quite some time. Dang- he'll never let me live this one down! _

_"_This should help him breathe a little easier." Donny explained, placing Mike's head between his legs as gently as he could during his frantic train of thought. "This is the first time he's had an attack like this, so there's not much we can do since we don't have any of the needed resources or equipment."

"Equipment? Don-?"

"Relax, by equipment I meant an inhaler. Nothing as drastic as a heart monitor or anything." Don replied in full doctor mode, kneeling beside Mikey as he rubbed comforting circles on his shell.

_...And suddenly I'm looking at the ground. I tried to lift my head to see what was going on only for Don to hold my head there and... oh, yeeeaaahhh... that feels good. And, hey-would ya look at that! I can breathe again! _

After a minute of this, Mike was reduced to a small hiccup and after another two minutes, Raph was getting restless. "Hey, Ya alrigh', Mikey?" Don and Leo looked intently at Michelangelo, each equally curious.

_Oh shell. I knew this was coming. _

With his brothers' undivided attention, Mike finally lifted his head for the first time since his _attack. _

_Okay, deep breath. Maybe I can do this now- _

**'Just**_** Peachy.' **_And just as before, nothing came out. _I'll try clearing my_ throat...**'um..DANGET!'**

_What? Not even a squeek? A hushed whisper? A sign that magically appears with my thoughts written on it? NOTHING? How do you explain to them you can't speak when it's the very thing you're known for?_

This time it was Don who asked, doctor mode on full power, "Mike, are you feeling okay?"

Suddenly, Raph burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Ignoring his brothers lack of self-control, Don continued, "Mikey, are you okay? Does anything hurt...?"

_Shell. Raph would be the first to get it. How do I explain this? _Pointing to his throat, Mikey grabbed a hold, then sticking his tongue out he shook his head signaling for no. _Based on the confused stares I'm recieving, they still don't get it. Okay, change of tactic. hmmm..._

Pointing to his left eye then shaking his head emphatically and making a makeshift puppet mouth out of his hand, Michelangelo mouthed to his two brothers, locking eyes in a desperate attempt for them to understand. Don and Leo just sat there, staring for the longest of time, dutifully ignoring the incessant howling coming from Raphael. Mikey shook his head in frustration, taking in the look of sheer confusion on Donatello's face and deflated in a near comical way. With one last try, Mike stared at Leo, willing him to understand. _Well, there goes my theory of Leo having Jedi mind-reading powers. _After what seemed like an eternity, Leonardo's face suddenly brightened. With new found hope, Mikey looked to Leo, his eyes showing how desperate he was.

"Mikey, I swear, if this is your new way of trying to weasel out of being caught or some sorry attempt at a joke-" Leo threatened, and Mikey immediately began shaking his head violently in hopes of keeping his innocence, motioning a cross over where his heart would be then holding his right hand up mimicking that of a boyscout. Leo stared at him for a moment, "Then are you trying to say that you are unable to speak?"

If Michelangelo were able to use his voice, he would have screamed with joy. Settling for the next best thing, and what most likely would have happened anyway, Mikey abruptly stood up and hugged a rather suprised Leo, practically tackling him to the ground in the process.

"Okay, okay- take it easy Mike. You just had a panic attack and you are sick, after all." Leo soothed, prying the younger turtle from his plastron.

"'This is golden! Talkin' 'bout some serious karma there, bro!" Raph chuckled, finally calm enough to form words again. Mike only stuck his tongue out and glared at Raph, seeing as how that was just about the only thing he _could_ do at the moment.

Finally shaking off his initial shock of the situation, Don piped up, saying, "Laryngitis. That has to be it. It... it would explain your..." Don paused, searching for the right word to say, "...spontaneous verbal vocalization defeciency."

_Did I detect some amusement in there? Aw, c'mon. I mean, I know I'm not the perfect patient and all, but sheesh. Karma is right. _

"I'm sorry Mikey, it's just the irony of the whole thing. You have to admit, it's funny..." Don consoled, pausing to try and bite down on his laughter.

_And apparently I really am as easy to read as an open book..._

Finally gaining control over his laughter, Don continued his explanation, "Laryngitis has a possible chance to occur when one has been sick for quite some time, especially when the illness is in your chest. More often than not, laryngitis is linked to a viral infection, like the common cold. It happens by inflamation of the larynx when the vocal cords are overused." Don explained, locking eyes with Mikey. "I'm willing to guess that since you weren't really resting up to the extent we all told you to after one of the more severe colds you've had in a while paired with the harsh coughs you contracted caused enough strain in order to, well, lose your voice entirely."

_By this point Raph was howling once again and Leo was doing his best to calm down the big shellhead via look #26 which could be defined as 'I'm really not impressed right now'. As for me, my eyes practically popped out of my head, my breath following suit, and suddenly I found it hard to breathe-again. _

_"_Michelangelo! Calm. Down."

_I looked up to see my my face mere inches from Don's. And then nothing. _

_"_Mikey!" Leo and Don chorused. Raph stopped laughing at that point, staring intently at the limp form in Don's arms.

"I think its a mixture of the shock and the illness making him do that."

"He gonna be alright, Don?"

"Of course, as long as he doesn't freak out again."

"So, you think this is real? He really actually lost his voice?"

"Oh it's real alright! Did ya see the look on his face? Aha!"

"It's not uncommon. It happens a lot to people who have to speak for a living, such as teachers or even musicians if they use their voice too much after an illness. It's sort of like bronchitis, but a little different and to a lesser extent."

"How do you know its not bronchitis, then?"

"Because of his difficulty breathing. That's a common factor in patients with laryngitis paired with the fact he couldn't speak at all... Bronchitis would have a whistle to his breath or even a production of various fluids in his lungs. His cough, though it still sounds just as bad, has been more of a dry one. Thus explaining his incredibly sore throat he compalined about earlier."

"Okay, so how long do you think this will last?"

"I think the real question here is how long will Mikey last. I mean, the turtle never could learn to shuddup."

"Voice-wise" Don said, giving a half-hearted glare towards Raph, "...Well, it depends. I'll have to wait for him to wake up before I can test him to see whether the case is acute or chronic. It shouldn't be too long until he does, I'd say a good ten to fifteen minutes."

Leo nodded his head, taking in the situation and together, the three concious turtles moved Mike to the couch.

* * *

_Ouch...talk about a wake up call, Mr. Head Throb, you can stop now. Shell. _

After taking a minute to gather up the strength- and courage- Mike's eyes finally fluttered open.

"Finally. It's 'bout time, Mikey. Hey, Don! He's awake!"

_Gee, thanks for that, Raph. I mean, ever heard of an inside voice?...Oh riiight. I was sort of hoping that was a dream. Fever dream, man is that Deja Vu or what?_

_"_Welcome to the land of the living, Mikey." Don said, immediately checking the orange-clad turtle's temperature, "And it looks like you're gonna make it, afterall. Fever finally broke. How do ya feel?"

Mike opened his mouth to reply then quickly snapped it shut, settling for a sideways thumb.

"Uhuh..." Don commented shoving some ibubprofen into Mike's hand, a glass in the other. "This ought to help your head for now. I'll give you a few minutes to yourself, then meet me in the lab, I'll need to check you over, kay?" Don didn't wait for a reply, getting up and walking towards the kitchen,most likely to grab himself some coffee.

_What a day... once I downed the pills and water, happily might I add, I looked over to see Raph was still there. Staring at me, like he was trying to read me or something all the while having this stupid smirk on his face. Not just your typical Raph smirk, either. Great. Before I knew it we were in a full blown stare battle. And not the fun little 'no smiling' ones. I could practically hear the old western music playing as we continued our standoff. Only one will win. And, admitedly, Raph had the better ammo this round. I mean, my voice _is_ one of my greatest weapons, after all. How else could I sike him out to the point of losing at the Battle Nexus? Not that I couldn't have beat him without it, but why pull at a door marked push, right? __After a couple of minutes, I decided a change of pace was neccessary. __I gave him my most clueless and innocent look, shrugged, then got up and walked away-straight to Don's lab._

A timid knock on the door alerted Don to his brother's prescence, a look up only confrimed it, so stating it would be redundant. "Ya ready?" He asked, doing his best to sound casual. Being the medic of the family, Donatello had learned how his brothers would behave in the makeshift infirmary. For instance, Leonardo would never admit to pain. Raph was the same, only, where Leo would try to cover it up by worrying about everyone else or taking a self-inflicted guilt trip. Raph would cover it up by using his 'tough turtle' attitude and would be a pain in the shell the whole time. As for Mikey, he hated the infirmary with a passion. Seeing as how he spent so much time inside, Don understood how the positive turtle hated the negative attention, so he would always try to make it quick and casual. The casualty really helped in most cases, giving Mike a sense of normalty. Ever since Don could remember, Mike always took change of any sort the hardest, and though he could handle it better as the years went on, it couldn't hurt. If nothing else it would keep him calm.

Mikey gave a small nod, sitting himself in Don's swivel chair once again.

"I'll start from the top. You have laryngitis. More than likely, you talking in the kitchen earlier caused you to cough and that cough just so happened to be strong enough to rack your already strained vocal chords, which is one of the main causes of laryngitis- strained vocal chords and coughing. Then, the mixture of your sickness and shock made you hyperventilate. Twice. But difficulty breathing is also a common sideffect to laryngitis." Don explained, seeing how Mike seemed not only confused but a touch embarrassed.

"All I need to do now is test you to see whether it's acute or chronic. Acute would mean this will only last a couple of days where as chronic would mean it's a little more severe and can last anywhere from three to four weeks. So, before I start, which do you want first-good or bad news?"

Mike stared at Don for a moment, then pointed his thumb down, indicating bad news before good.

"Alright, well, the bad news is that your version of laryngitis is viral and from a causitive factor, meaning, there really is no treatment option nor is there any accurate way to guess how long it will be. Just like with a cold, I can have a good guess based on some basic tests but we really just have to wait it out. But, the good news is you've already experienced all the symptoms, so other than your loss of voice and difficulty breathing, it's basically the same cold and flu symptoms you were already experiencing. So, uh, no more surprises, I guess...It sounded like good news in my head, atleast."

Thirty minutes and a couple medical tests later, Mike and Don were both sitting on the desk waiting for the results.

"So, you can't even whisper?" Don asked curiously. Mike shook his head no, frustration clear on his face. "Hm... ya sure?" Mike only stared indifferently. "Okay, okay. I believe you. Sheesh... if looks could kill..." Mike huffed, placing his hand underneath his chin in the perfect 'the thinker' position. "What are you-?" Don's question was interrupted by the snapping of Mike's fingers as he practically jumped off the small desk and began rummaging through the many filing cabinets and drawers. "Can I help you find something there, Mike?" Don asked half in fear for his lab and the other half in sheer morbid curiosity, if not for what he was looking for then for how he would try to explain so without the use of words. Five seconds later a small, satisfactory gasp came from Mike as he seemed to find what he had been looking for.

As it turns out, it was a spare notepad Don hadn't used yet. Mikey eagerly grabbed a pen from the cluttered desk, writing, **'may I?'**

Don chuckled at the sheer excitement he saw in Mikey's eyes, "It's all yours."

**'Yes! :)'**

"You amaze me sometimes."

Mike quirked an eye ridge, scribbling in the notepad, **'?'**

"Because you have this much energy when you're sick. I don't see how that's possible."

**'Food. That's how...'**

"Yeah, of course it is..."

Mikey nodded his head, pointing to himself then to the door.

"Yeah, go ahead, I'll tell you when I get any results, and before you ask, no. I don't need anything."

Mikey grinned in the doorway giving Don a quick thumbs up before leaving.

"And try to get some rest!" Don shouted after the mime-status brother.

Ten minutes later found Mike in the kitchen, polishing off the remnants of a monster sammich. Raph and Leo had just walked in for some water, having just finished a small sparring session, when Donatello walked in. "Cool, now I only have to say it once. Results!" The purple-clad ninja chirped.

"This oughtta be good." Raph said smirking at Mike who, in turn, looked to Leo for support.

"What's the news, Don?"

"Well, as it turns out, it's eighty-five percent chronic. Based on the severity test and his current condition, I'd say the most accurate guess is three weeks minimum. Four weeks max."

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**A/N: Dun dun dun... REVIEW PLEASE!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thankyou so very very much for all the amazing reviews, guys! I was surprised at how many of you actually left a review! SO I just want to say thanks again for every single one of them, and I expect another and then some ;). Now let's check in on poor mute Mikey...**

* * *

"...Based on the severity test and his current condition, I'd say the most accurate guess is three weeks minimum. Four weeks max."

The kitchen was silent for a moment as each turtle took in the news. Then, as sudden as the news came, all eyes were on the orange-clad turtle each brother waiting to assess Mike's initial reaction.

...three_ to FOUR weeks. WEEKS! Now, I'm not exactly the math wiz of us turtles, but I believe four weeks evens out to be an entire month. A MONTH! I'm never gonna survive this! Sure, I've battled Shredder and his foot goons countless times, taken on aliens and yet this is how it will end... and I won't even have any last words! Aw shell..._

Mikey's face stayed frozen leaving his brothers clueless to the panicking dialogue inside his own head.

_Okay Mikey, pressures on now. They're waiting for your response. Why, I have no idea. Actually, they're probably waiting for me to have another panic attack like the last two times... which would be a nice exit right now, but my airways feel very nice, thankyou. Probably those meds Don gave me...and right when I need it, too! Great, Raph's laughing now. Okay then, ya wanna play it that way Raphie-boy? I'm game...Man, that was cheesy..._

With new found determination, and pizazz, Mikey nodded his head in what, to his brothers, appeared as him soaking in the information; where as for Mikey, happened to be more of a way to clear his thoughts. Raph finally bit down on his laughter after multiple unapproving looks from Don and Leo, not that he was doing them a favor. No, he just needed them to remain on his side for the month. A second later, Mikey was still nodding his head, albeit more subtly now, but a grin was growing on his face. It started with the slow upward pull of his mouth, steadily climbing it's way up until Mike's cheekiest smile was plastered to his face.

"Mike? You alright there?" Don asked, concern peeking it's way through his voice. A nod of the head and a thumbs up was the response as Mike's smile turned into a pained smirk. "You sure?"

"Don, he's fine! Look, he thinks it's darn funny as well. Right, Mime-y, I mean, Mikey?" Raph mocked, moving so that he was now face to face with Mike, who responded by raising a single eye ridge, frowning at Raph's shark-like smile.

With a grim nod, Leo asked, "Don, are you certain? An entire month seems like a long time for something as little as this-"  
"Except you seem to be forgetting that this wasn't a little illness. If I remember correctly, he was actually very ill. Not to mention, as I have stated before, Mikey's just prone to more illnesses. Though there's no real _valid_ scientific evidence on it, there is a theory that whenever there are three or more 'children' in a family, one is usually more susceptable than the others. Keeping that in mind, and given our nature, we are still reptilian in a lot of ways. One we all know very well is being coldblooded. It's actually quite amazing that we three aren't as bad as Mikey." Don finished with a gesture to Mike, who at this point was scribbling madly on the notepad in front of him, glancing up only when he heard his name.

With a quick frown towards Don, he continued his scribbling trying deperately to finish his thought process before the conversation took another turn. Just as Leo opened his mouth to speak, Mikey threw the pen straight towards him where only Leo's ninja reflexes allowed him to catch a mere inch from his beak.

"Nice," The turtle in blue commented dryly, "I'm guessing that's your main form of comunication for a month?" Mike nodded an affirmative, hesitating ever so slightly as he tapped the notepad impatiently.

Sighing, Leo grabbed the pad of yellow paper and began to read silently, **"Rule #1 if it aint 1 on 1 then read OUT LOUD-Rule #2 don't ignore rule #1" **

"Seriously, Mike?" At Mike's frown Leo read on bipassing the rules entirely and picking up where they ended. With one quick glance up to his brother's pleading face, Leo continued, "Mikey wants to know when he'll be able to join us on our training runs again."

Ignoring Raph's snort, Mikey looked to Don, his eyes practically begging him to allow him this one freedom. Donny cleared his throat, "Well, as long as his temperature remains stable, I'd say tomorrow. Of course, he'd have to take it real easy so he doesn't fall ill again," Don glaced to Mike, who was practically bouncing in his seat, continuing his innuendo,"and given he'll rest when neccessary so his respiratory system remains normal. As in the careful consideration that Laryngitis can -and already has- made breathing an issue, hm?"

Mikey nodded his head, stifling a sudden urge to cough up his remaining lung. Then, in one fluid movement, Mikey had jumped from his seat, snatched the pad and pen from Leo's grasp, and darted into the living room- smacking the back of Raph's head in the process.

"Why you little-!" Raph roared as he sprung after Michelangelo.

"Raph-!"

"Ah, leave him Leo. Mike knew that would happen." Don said as he fixed himself _another_ cup of coffee. Once he had taken a sip, Don sat down at the table looking over the results intently.

"So, what else do you know about Mike's _condition_?" Leo asked slowly, fixing his eyes on Don who looked up enough to make eye contact.

"I _know _that it really isn't anything to worry about too much. Honestly, the worse case here is Mike has another go at hyperventalating and even that should clear up within a week or two. My biggest concern is the obvious torture Raph will be giving Mikey now that he can't squeal."

"I know, Don, honest. I don't mean to sound doubtful as to your assessment, it's just that after what happened with Sensei-" Leo practically whispered the last part, taking a moment to gather himself before continuing his statement, "I just worry, Don. Whenever anyone gets sick, I worry."

"I know, Leo, so do I." Don said quietly. The two sat in silence for moment, each thinking back to their own memories until it was broken by a soft laugh from the turtle in purple,"But it is Mikey, he always bounces back." And with that, Don grabbed his coffee and headed back into his lab.

Leo watched as Don exited the kitchen, then got up as well stopping in the doorway for just a second. "I hope so."

* * *

"C'mere shell fer brains!" Raph shouted as he followed Mike into the kitchen. Though Raph hated to admit it, Mikey was the fastest of the four. The fact that he is as sick as he is and can _still _lead Raph on a wild-goose chase throughout the Lair was evidence to that.

Raph lunged towards Mike, frustration evident by his very facial expression, and just like before Mikey danced out of the way. Then, right as the red-banded hothead was about to grab the energetic turtle in orange, Mike's shell cell rang effectively freazing both turtles mid-step.

_Oh greeeeaaaaat. I never thought about April calling me! Okay, calm down Mikey. If you don't answer it, she'll worry but if you do-what could you do then? You're effectively MUTE! Dang, that still stings a bit..._

Flipping his shell cell open, Mike gave Raph the most desperate look he could muster while holding the phone out. Smirking, Raph put his hands up while walking backwards out of the kitchen.

_I don't believe it, he ditched me...again! Okay, great. So how do you talk on the phone when you don't even have a VOICE!_

Peering in from the doorway, Raph had to hold back a laugh at how helpless Mike looked. His face was utterly priceless. It was the epitome of a gaping fish on a sugar high. His face showed the shock of the predicament where as his body language showed that he was in the middle of an inner battle of sorts.

The muffled sounds of April on the other line was all Mikey could hear as he tried to think of a way to communicate. With an audible sigh, he did the only thing he could do and ran straight to Don's lab.

Mike skidded to a halt, his feet sliding a couple extra inches as he missed the doorway to the lab ever so slightly. With a quick change of direction he ran into the room, bumping into the swivel chair that was sitting idley by. This got Don's attention, to say the least, as it rolled it's way into some boxes filled with spare parts resulting in a loud clank.

"Mikey! What-!" Mike interrupted Don by flailing his arms-he then shoved the small communicative device into the brainiac's hand.

"It's the shell cell, Mikey." The younger turtle facepalmed, sighing loudly. Seeing that his immediate older brother was clueless yet again, he stuck his two fingers out mimicking a phone.

"Call someone?" Don guessed. He never was very good at charades. However, seeing as how Michelangelo just stopped entirely and stared at him, Don found it safe to assume he was incorrect. Looking down told him how, as he could see the phone was already answered and waiting for someone to...and then it clicked.

"Oooohh! I see..." Don said sheepishly.

_Finally! Bro, if I'm gonna spend a month like this, you're gonna have to learn to read gestures...Who would'a thunk. Our resident genius can't understand charades... _As I fiddled with the random trinkets and thingamajigs sprawled around Don's desk, I couldn't help but eavesdrop. I mean, she did call for me, after all...

He looked down at the shell cell in his hand then back to Mikey, who had distracted himself with Don's 'shiny toys' for the time being. With a small sigh, Donatello put the phone to his head.

**"Hello! Hello! Mikey! Guys?"**

"Erm, uh, hi April."

**"Don? What are you doing with Mikey's phone? Is everything okay? Mike usually answers his it right away..."**

"Oh, yeah, we're all fine. Mike just, sort of..."

_Here goes..._

"Mikey has a bad case of laryngitis.."

_Whelp. I'm bored now. _With a casual salute to Don signaling his departure, Mike left for the currently uninhabited living room. After flipping through the channels enough times to figure out nothing was on, Mike turned the television off. Reaching for his notepad and pen, which until recently, had been sprawled out on the floor from the previous interaction with Raph just fifteen minutes ago.

_Okay, so I'm bored. Guess I really am still sick. How else would I be so pooped right now? Heh._ Mike's mind traveled randomly as he fingered his pen.

_Guess I'll have to get used to the silence for a while. I hate silence. It's just so empty, sort of hallow and grim. Though, I guess this silence isn't all bad. Come to think of it, there are lots of different silences. Like a peaceful silence. Take Leo for example, he would find it sweet and relaxing. It will help clear his thoughts and help him focus, even. Which I suppose we could all use. Some more than others, fake cough,-Leo and Don-fake cough. _

_Atleast it's not a fearful silence, though. Sort of the whole 'calm before the storm' idea where it's, and I quote, "quiet...too quiet.." Then out of nowhere comes the enemy ready to attack us all! Crazy as this sounds, I might be willing to swap that for the silence in the lair right now, if not because of how familiar we all are with the 'eery silence' then because I would know what to expect. _

_This silence is full of payback. Okay, okay, not neccessarily. Well, when it comes to Raph, then yes, Neccessarily. Note the capital 'N'. It's a brother thing, I guess. We get on one another's nerves. Sometimes it's on purpose and sometimes it's not, but I'd be willing to think that it's something in our subconcious that makes us want to irritate eachother. If you think about it long enough- it sort of makes sense, too. That we annoy eachother in an effort to stay close, acknowledge the existance of one another and because in the end, we do this as best friends. The cool thing is that we can do whatever to each other because we're not just friends- we're brothers and we'll have eachother's backs no matter what. _

_Which is all the more reason as to why I need to crush Raph's so called 'revenge' like the little bugs he hates. Not that it's really revenge, I mean he always gets that one way or another- more often than not the 'another' way. Heh. So it's not like he's behind on getbacks or anything. Really it's more of an unspoken competition- the irony of that was just too great. Heh. Anyway, Raph is basically gonna try and milk this, um, we'll call it: predicament. He'll prod at me until he can't get anymore leverage and then he'll start to slice at me for his sweet, brotherly satisfaction. Because this is all so hilariously ironic it's bound to follow me for the rest of my life, I'll need to devise some form of a counterattack. Heh, and Leo says I never pay attention during those strategy lessons..._

"Mikey, April said she, oh-" Don paused upon seeing the young turtle sound asleep on the couch. With practiced ease, Donatello grabbed the spare blanket and threw it over the slumbering turtle. Then, as quietly as possible he dissapeared back into his lab, it was about time Mike got some rest.

* * *

**Aaand another chapter bites the dust! I know, I know, it's a slow moving train here, but some interesting things should start up soon enough... so please please please REVIEW for me! I love to hear what you think, constructive or whatever you've got, I'll take it! Let me know if anything needs a fixin', I'll be more than happy to get this fic up to it's full potential! =) REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Chapter Five is HERE! **=) **(And Thankyou so so SO much for all the wonderful reviews! Keep it up y'all!) So so so sorry for how long it took!**

* * *

___Woah, duuude. Is it just me or does my throat hurt even worse today? I thought Donny said I would feel better... _

As the sick turtle went to sit up, there was a loud clang followed by what sounded like a muffled remark. _Great, my bros must be trying to cook again. _With a good stretch, Michelangelo snuck his way over towards his brothers. Now, normally Mike wouldn't even attempt to be quiet but an idea struck him that if he couldn't talk, which often was the main reason he COULDNT be quiet, why not mess with them by suddenly appearing places? Suppressing a snicker, Mikey made his way to the kitchen where he decided to assess the situation before entering by peering in from the doorway.

Don was sitting at the table, his liquid life in hand, while Leo rescued slightly smoking bread from the confines of the toaster. _No sign of Raph? Maybe I didn't sleep in as long as I thought... _Mike moved to enter the kitchen but stopped short upon hearing the conversation.

"Shh guys! I want Mike to sleep for a little longer, he really shouldn't even be training just yet."

"Then why'd ya tell him he could Don?"

"Raph, you of all people should know that a sick and unhappy Mikey is ten times worse than when he's just unhappy."

_Well some ninja I am, I should have known Raph was raiding the fridge. And what is THAT supposed to mean?_

"Well tough. Just say no. If he feels left out he can sit there and watch."

"That's plan B, Raph. For now, I'm just hoping he'll oversleep."

_Nice to know I'm in the loop. _

This seemed to grasp Leonardo's attention, "I don't know Don. He seemed pretty excited yesterday. He might not take no for an answer."

_I knew I admired you for a reason, Leo!_

"Yeah, he's just about as stubborn as you sometimes, fearless."

Rolling his eyes, Leo placed the charred remains of food on the table, earning looks of disgust from both turtles already seated at the table.

_Well, only some reasons, I guess...wait- stubborn? I'm not stubborn! Am I?_

With a stern look, Leo sat down, "I just don't think getting his hopes up will help any. But if you don't think he's ready to train, we can wait another day. I don't want to take any risks."

_Aw, how sweet. Who would have known my first whack at ninja stealth would lead me to a conversation about myself. heh. Too bad they're right, I am gonna make sure I train today. Wow, never thought I'd say that. Maybe I am unwell. Or the fever is back..._

"Mikey? What are you doing there?"

At the sudden calling of his name, the orange clad ninja jumped, knocking over Klunk's water bowl and losing his balance in the process, which in turn sent him flailing backwards onto the floor covered in a vague mixture of water and catfood.

_If I could have screamed just then, I so would have. Shell... So much for ninja stealth. _

_"_Geez, Mikey. Freak out much?" Don quipped while he and Leo helped the frazzled turtle to his feet. Shooting Don a sheepish look of annoyance, the younger turtle walked to the fridge grabbing the milk.

"He's just mad 'cuz it ain't just his voice that makes him the loudest ninja ever." Raph teased, dodging the handful of cereal thrown towards his head.

"Mikey..." Leo reprimanded as they all sat down once again.

Handing Mikey his notepad, Don asked, "So, Mike, how do you feel?"

Not bothering to use paper, Mike gave Don a thumbs up.

Irritated by his brother's pouting, Don sighed, "I need specifics, Mike."

Sighing as well, Michelangelo grabbed the pen and wrote : **Specifically- why can't I practice?**

"Mike, you've been pretty sick. And laryngitis effects breathing, I don't want to risk you having another go at hyperventalating because of training."

Mike huffed, crossed his arms, and stared at Don in some cross between a pout and a glare.

"Don't give me that look, _Michelangelo_." Mike's glare faltered for a minute. _Woah, my full name. Yikes, Don is noooooot happy. _

As Don and Mike continued to stare at eachother, Raph and Leo shifted uncomfortably in their seat. It wasn't often when Mikey and Don would but heads and though this isn't as bad as it could be, it still got the two nervous.

"One more day Mike. And I'll let you go on our training run tomorrow, deal?" Don said through clenched teeth. Mike's face instantly lit up and he grinned goofily, nodding his approval and reaching out his hand, but before Don reached his hand he added, "And you'll actually take it easy today and rest. Am I clear?" With a small albeit dissappointed nod, Mike agreed to his brother's ultimatum. Raph and Leo exchanged looks while their two youngest brothers shook hands. And with that, the three healthy turtles went to the dojo to begin their training.

* * *

_Okay, so first thing's first. Raph seems to think I'll be certifiably insane by the end of the week and even though I'm beginning to agree- what with me talking to myself inside my head all the time- I still need to prove that I won't go insane! Not to mention he thinks I can't be stealthy? Oh no, bro. This sickness ain't gonna be for the benefit of you only, Raphie-boy, I'm gonna get one step ahead of you in this and you'll get _all_ the blame. Maybe being mute for a month really does have some advantages..._

* * *

"MIKEY!"

_Phase one, complete. Battle stations. _

Storming into the living room, spoiled milk dripping from his face, Raph was nearly three feet from a previously snoozing Michelangelo. With an inaudible eep, Mikey quickly covered his face in a pillow. _Five. Four. Three. Two. One._

"Raph! What are you-" Donatello stopped short upon entering the room. _Right on time. _ Plugging his beak Don asked, "Eeeew! What is that?!"

"What do ya think, genius?! It's rotten milk! The little twerp rigged it ta fall on me while I was lifting weights!"

"Gah! That smells awful, Raph! Go take a shower or something!"

"No, thats it! The little knucklehead has been doin' this all day! I'm gonna teach this shell-head a thing or two first!"

"Raph, Mike's been in here asleep all day and how would he even have rotten milk? He hates the stuff, besides, last I checked, ours is still good."

"Don! Its _Mike_ we're talking 'bout here! He probly had it stashed 'way to rot fer months on end! You could probly just look under his bed and find it sittin' there, you've seen his room!"

_I resent that! Even if you are half right..._

"Raph, in case you didn't already know, I've been checking up on him all day. He hasn't so much as moved without me knowing."

"We _are_ ninja, Don. Its not like he couldn't have snuck 'way or somethin'!"

"Yeah, Mike definitely demonstrated his stealth this morning, eh, Raph? No offense Mikey."

_Totally took offense, dude._

"Yeah, well..." For once, Raph was without an argument. If Don really had been keeping such a close eye on Mike, which they all were, then there really was no time for him to have done this. From their point of view, Mike has been sitting here sleeping and playing videogames all day. But Raph knew this had Mike's name all over it and he'd figure out how soon enough. If he's gonna play it that way, then he's just gonna have to stay one step ahead.

"Exactly. You leave glasses out all the time, Raph. Who's to say you didn't set that glass there only to forget about it until today?" Don said, ending the argument right then and there.

With an annoyed growl, Raph turned to walk away but not before he caught a glimpse of the youngest's michevious smile. Whipping around, Raph saw Don was walking towards the coffee table that held all of Mike's supplies on the other side of the couch- back turned to Mike, who took this opportunity to stick his tongue out at the hothead.

"Ya see! See that Don, the little twerp _DID_ do it!"

Turning around, Don looked to Mike who was now laying down, looking to him with a face of indifference. "Raph- shower. That milk is going to your head." Don said, turning back to what he was doing.

Raph narrowed his eyes at the young turtle who was now sitting up, smirking at his red banded brother, Raph made a fist with his hand and pointed it at the younger turtle before stomping off to the bathroom.

* * *

"Hurry up, Einstein! We don't have all night!" Raph yelled from where he stood at the entrance of the lair.

"Patience, Raph! Leo's not even out yet!"

"Actually Don, I am." Leo said as he walked up next to Raph, "Is he still checking on Mikey?"

"Yeah, I'd pity the poor dufus if it weren't for him messin' with me all day."

"You've been saying that all day, but I didn't notice him leave that couch even once, Raph." Leo said exasperated.

"Whatever, let's just go." Raph growled, temper flaring at how his brother had outsmarted him.

"Okay, Mike. I want you to get some rest, alright? And if you get hungry, keep it light. If you have any hopes for joining us tomorrow you'll follow these to a 't', got it?" Don said in full doctor mode.

Nodding his head, Mike waved goodbye to his brothers. _Great. Now what?_

* * *

**Double sorry for how long this chapter took to post, and triple sorry for how short it ended up being. Oh well, it should be enough to tide you guys over until the next chapter...I hope...in the meantime- PLEASE REVIEW! It honestly makes my day when I see them and gives me inspiration to continue for the next chapters! =)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm a terrible liar for saying this would have been posted two weeks ago- to those I told such aspirations to, I'm sorry I took five times as long. And, as for my wonderful reviewers- YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! Thankyou all who reviewed! I really appreciate it! Sorry for taking so long! Hopefully this will make up for it! (Wow, I used a LOT of exclamation points...) ENJOY! **_**=)**_

* * *

Patrol was short and, so far, uneventful. Sure, there was still the usual muggings and robberies to terminate, yet, for the most part, all seemed to be eerily silent. This feeling seemed to make the turtles think about their sick little brother; even Raph who, though still none to happy about the events of the day, wished to return to the lair to check on the orange-banded turtle.

"Don, are you really gonna let Mikey train tomorrow?"

Looking out into the distance, Don sighed, "Yeah. I sort of have to now, and I would have today its just that..."Don trailed off. Turning to his two brothers, the purple-clad turtle continued, "Look. I'm still not a hundred percent sure yet, but I'm beginning to think this is more than just laryngitis. It made sense at first, because of how often Mikey talks- especialy when sick. His throat was already irritated so, logically, it could have been further irritated to a point of voice loss caused by his caughing. Problem is, I don't quite understand his hyperventalating..."

Raph and Leo waited for Don to continue, but seeing as how the bo-wielder seemed to be lost in his thoughts, Leonardo quirked an eyeridge and prompted, "I thought you said it was a common symptom with laryngitis."

"It is, but usually for young children, not teenaged. Even the added factor of living in dank and musty sewers shouldn't be enough to cause Mike to have lost his voice so completely- though it surely won't help any when it comes to the healing proccess..."

"So what are ya sayin, egghead?" Raph said, his protective nature as an older brother taking over.

Donatello inhaled in an attempt to not only calm his growing frustration but to collect the scattered thoughts floating about his head. After a few calming breathes, Don explained,"Do you guys remember when we were kids, how Mike used to have trouble breathing?"

"Yeah, Master Splinter did breathing excercises for months so he could learn to control it..."

"Exactly, and do you guys remember how sick he always was along with his asthma?"

"Well yeah, Donny, the little twerp always has _somethin'_ wrong with 'im- are ya sayin' Mike's asthma came back?"

"I don't think it ever left. I mean, its not uncommon for people with asthma to have a stage in their life where its somewhat...dormant. And even then, it still seemed to effect him. We just never noticed because we weren't really looking for it."

"What do you mean? When has it effected him, Don?" Leo asked, his worry growing at the mention of overlooking something so important.

"Mainly small things. Little details we overlooked at the time but once I started thinking back to it, they began to stick out. A lot of times it would be when he got real excited or scared. For the most part, he would get himself under control, a mixture of all the breathing excercises and the physical training we partake in making it a mere annoyance. He noticed and didn't say anything because he's Mikey and, well, he's not a fan of anything illness related, though you can't really blame him. After all, both seemingly go hand-in-hand as far as severity is concerned."

Don leaned up against the ledge of the rooftop, staring at his brothers as if the mere observance could help him gauge what they were thinking. Finally, after several minutes of silence, Raph spoke,"So, yer sayin' Mike got laryngitis 'cuz of his asthma?"

"Well its certainly a part of it. The fact that Mike is so frequently ill is an issue in itself. Its had an obvious effect in how he's not only the shortest and leanest of us all, but also in how, er, _hyper-active_ he can be. Based on the patterns of his illnesses, he usually has a few mild sicknesses that lead to one bigger illness, which, though still not life-threatening- are of a fairly severe case. Whether the attack on his respiratory system is what triggered the asthma or the other way around, I'm not sure. Like I said, they sort of go hand-in-hand."

"Would it be safe for Mikey to train with us tomorrow?"

Don hummed as he measured his thoughts once again, "As long as we go easy and don't stray too far from our home, he _should _be fine. I'm still not sure how severe his asthma is right now...We'll just have to keep a close eye on him. If nothing else, it will help me to determine the severity of his respiration."

"I jus' find it hard ta believe- Mike's always been the fastest. Give him an open area and the bonehead could run fer days without stopping!"

"As long as he's not sick and his breathing remains controlled, it doesn't appear effect him too much," Don shrugged, "Scientifically, however, well, I'd have to do tests rather than merely observing."

Quirking an eye ridge, Leo asked, "How long have you had this theory, Don? Have you even talked to Mikey about this?"

The brainiac visibly tensed. He knew Leo wouldn't approve of Don's lack commmunication with his younger counterpart. After taking a breath, Don rubbed his face and mumbled, "_Quite some time. _And as for the second question, no."

With a mighty sigh, Leo stepped forward placing a hand on Don's shoulder, "Look, we all know how Mikey gets with this kind of stuff, but, I think you should discuss this asthma issue with him. If what you say you've observed is true, then he's probably expecting it to come soon, anyway."

"And it will only help, I know, Leo. I just don't want to overwhelm him..." As the uneasy feeling grew within his stomach, Don decided to change the topic before an argument began, "Let's head home, I don't want to be out so long while Mikey's sick."

Nodding in agreement, the three brothers made their way back home, each deciding the uneasy feeling to be due to their younger brother.

* * *

Among the shadows, the ninja shifted in anticipation. _Mistress Karai will be pleased. _Karai had been so busy with the fraudulent buisness of her fathers to so much as train her own ninjas, much less hunt down her most hated enemies. Consequently, the mystics and the few ninja skilled enough had temporarily been allauded these _tasks. _

This included leading the patrol.

Of course, the current leader of this battalion had explicit orders to attack if the turtles are so much as spotted. This is exactly what he directed his ninja to do, indicating the group to surround the three turtles, waiting for the signal to be given.

However, just seconds before doing so, the ephemeral leader heard something which might be of more use.

**_"As long as we go easy and don't stray too far from our home, he should be fine. I'm still not sure how severe his asthma is right now...We'll just have to keep a close eye on him. If nothing else, it will help me to determine the severity of his respiration."_**

_hmmm..._

With a signal of recession, the ninja left their spots mere seconds before the turtles ran by.

Signalling for the rest of the ninja to retreat, the evanescent leader stealthily stalked the turtles before they dropped down into the sewers below. Taking note of his surroundings, the foot froze as the turtle in blue looked directly where he had been mere seconds ago, his eyes trailing towards his hidden form.

"Leo! Would ya quit bein' so dang paranoid?!"

Suppressing a sigh of relief, the transient foot watched as his enemy nodded his head and disappeared into the manhole.

_Tomorrow..._

* * *

The lair was dark with the only light being the glow of the television in what serves as the living room. Don walked over to the couch where Mikey lay passed out, a pile of disheveled blankets barely hanging on top of him once again expressing Mike's irratic way of sleeping. Pulling the covers over his little brother's nearly camatose form, Don had to suppress a chuckle as he reached under the couch and pulled out the now empty bag of chips.

_Why am I not surprised?_

With a swift shake of his head, Don moved to turn off the television, stopping short as he noticed Mike's sketch pad laying open on the table next to him. It was common knowledge that the orange-banded turtle was, in fact, quite skilled in art of any caliber. From an early age, Michelangelo seemed to have taken a fondness for that which is his namesake. Of course, being the personable turtle he is, Mikey had no problem in revealing his 'masterpieces' to his family.

Yet, Don couldn't help reminding himself, though Michelangelo _did _enjoy displaying his work for all to see, he still held an air of humility that not only mystified his talents but brought a subtle, albeit miniscule and often rejected, tinge of respect from the three older turtles. It is one of the few things that will really hold Mikey's attention and he nearly protected it with his life. Don had pondered many times how his sketchpad could be so important-they all have.

Sometimes, when emotions run high and the turtles had been in particularly difficult battles, Michelangelo will go for days carrying around that mysterious book, leaving the lair only to reappear hours later, his previously pensive look replaced with the charismatic smile they all know and love. Raph, after Mike had denied his request yet again, had once attempted to see into it by force. The resulting battle was so unexpected and down right terrifying that Raphael himself vowed to never attempt to peek into it ever again.

_It wouldn't be right, after all, we all have our ways of coping with our lifestyle, perhaps this is Mikey's way of doing so...yet, maybe it could give me some insight as to how he really feels. After all, he's neglected telling me of his asthma for quite some time. And its not like Michelangelo is ever very honest, not when it comes to this sort of a thing, anyway...maybe some answers are in here. It will only help, right? If anything it would be payback for all the experiments he's ruined... No, this is for Mikey's own good. I can't help him if I don't have valid information,besides, what Mikey doesn't know won't hurt him, right? _And, as if it were the deciding factor in his betrayal, Don picked up the sketch pad and flipped to the most recent page.

Donatello stood there frozen for what felt like an hour, but in reality, had to have been less than a minute. One page. Only one page and he could go no further. Don knew his brother was good, the work he had been shown countless times was a testament to that. But this, this topped anything he had ever seen. What Don saw within this one page was enough to outdo anything Mikey had ever shown him. Not only did it lack color, which is a stark contrast to his normally vivid works, but it was almost as if you could reach out and grab the picture, it was so realistic.

After the innitial amazement over his younger brother's abilities finally began to subside, Donny really assessed the piece. Ignoring the small doodles of what appeared to be Michelangelo sitting ontop of an irritated (and losing) Raphael, there was a large drawing of large abyss that seemed to be coming from one of the walls of the lair. Reaching out from the darkness of the nothingness that is the abyss were large tentacles with these horrible claws. Many of these claw-like tentacles reached out to a turtle of the same size and build of Michelangelo. _That's because it _is _Michelangelo. _Afterall, it looked _just _like him. Don briefly wondered how he even managed to get the pattern of his shell right. The details told enough of the story. The way the veins bulged where the claw was imbedding itself into his neck, the way his legs came together in the curshing grip of the tentacle done so indefinitely one could practically hear the popping as the bones were shattered and crushed within its grasp as it attempted to drag its prey into the looming darkness behind it. Mikey's nails splintered and desperate as he rips up the floors, his last-ditch effort to fight back. But what really caught Don's attention was the face of his brother- the look in his eyes that captured his fear and his pain with a nearly whistful expression intensifying how this is almost a normal occurance. How the tentacle wraps around his brothers head, latching onto the mouth in the most painful way possible. Just in the corner of the abyss were eyes shaded in a way that caused a shiver to go down Don's shell at how purely evil and merciless they glowed. Yet what hit Don the hardest was not the overall picture of his brother being dragged away against his will, but how heavy the lines were. How dark the pencil was and the deep imprints left upon the page. _Therapeutic?_

Setting the book back where it was originally found, Don stared dumbfounded as his younger brother slept, illuminated by the glow of the television set. His curiosity both thirsty and quenched at the same time. It was as if his brother's every emotion lay upon the fibers of that book, done in such a passionate way that only a soul could harness...and Don had to respect that.

* * *

**Well that took a bit of a different direction than I expected... I dropped a lot of bombs on this one, didn't I? angsty. Eh,I'm just trying to get the story along...sorry for the lack of Mikey in this chapter, I won't make a promise this time, but the next chapter should come soon (if not sooner) And it will FOR SURE have more Mikey in it =) **

**And yes, I know, its short again- but not as short as last time, but yes, the next one does need to be longer. I gotcha... Can I still have my reviews?!PLEASE REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Welp. I'm a dunce. Sorry for the long wait for the update! But I'm happy to present (dun, dun dunnnnn) CHAPTER SEVEN! And thankyou SO much for ALL your FANTASTIC reviews! Each and every single one makes my day, so please write another? Haha, well, enjoy =D**

* * *

"Mikey, calm down- you're gonna attract unnecessary attention." Leo attempted to scold, though he wasn't exactly being successful. _I can totally tell you're enjoying this, too, Leo._ Mikey thought as he flashed his oldest brother a grin, mid back handspring. _I've been containing myself all day long, if you even think I'm gonna be calm now then, dude, we really need some brother-bonding time because you obviously don't know me as well as you think._

The four turtles had been patrolling for an hour at least and had only broken up one simple mugging. Needless to say, they were all getting bored.  
"But seriously, Mike, if you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable- take a break, am I clear?"  
_Crystal, dude. Seriously, calm yourself down. I'm fiiiine, honest... well, minus the whole mute-ant turtle thing..._  
With a quick head nod and a small glance at his brainiac of a brother, Mike dismissively waved his hand choosing to look out at the skyline for a moment, his characteristic grin nearly splitting his face in two.

There was a muffled crunch of an old and withered leaf and within the blink of an eye, all four turtles were surrounded by none other than the foot.

_Aw shell, not these guys! Though I suppose that explains why things have been so calm all night..._  
Mike let out a sharp breath as suddenly the entire fleet ran towards him. _What the-?! Holy Shell! Wait your turn, ladies- I have three other brothers! Of course, I can't exactly see any of them right now..._  
_Okay, okay, chill. They're probably only attacking you because they, I don't know, WHY ARE THEY ONLY ATTACKING ME!?_

And there it was. That tightening of his lungs, the constricting in his throat- his vision began to tunnel and-_No, Mikey, not right now. We are NOT having an attack right..._gasp_...now._

There was a hit to his plastron, further winding the sickly turtle followed almost immediately by a smack to the head and suddenly Michelangelo was on shell dodging the powerful swinging of a katana, the whoosh of air much to slow thanks to the extreme amount of adrenaline rushing through the recently muted turtle.

_Learned this move from the Matrix, _he thought as he pushed off with both legs, twisting his body upright while falling into a makeshift handstand. The foot dropped back into a fighting stance as Mike grinned mischievously, catching his breath at the same time. _Thanks for the distraction, dude. _His previously locked elbows haunched, waiting for just the right moment.

_Any second now, big guy..._Noticing the shift of weight in the ninja's stance, Mike pushed off his hands as hard as he could, leaning forward as far as possible-_alli-oop-_POW! The orange-clad turtle chuckled best he could as three ninja toppled to the ground having been whacked on the back of their heads when the turtle of their previous vigil flipped over and behind them .

With a slight break in the ambush, Mike looked to see Leo and Don shell to shell efficiently taking down the outside circle of foot ninja far off to the right. A grunt and eventual thud alerted Michelangelo to the presence of Raph a couple feet to his left. Turning around quickly, Mike saw more than half of the foot heading straight towards him. _Great_, Mike moaned internally. _I haven't exactly got all my strength back, so fighting them hand-to-hand, or even weapon-to-weapon, is not exactly a good idea. I'll be down five times quicker than usual._ A quick glance to his brothers on either side- each with an overwhelming amount of foot to fend off and Mike had made his decision. _Run._

_Man, I hope this works..._Mike thought as leapt onto the second roof so far, deciding to risk a look behind, an odd combination of relief and fear swam through him upon seeing at least half the group following closely behind him._ Where to? Where to? Oh shell!_ _Okay, so its not the destination that counts, its the journey, am I right? So just tire them out and then it doesn't matter where I lead them.. so long as its away from my bros and fast enought they can't catch me... yeah... sounds good..._

_This isn't so bad...I'm doing pretty good, too! Not bad for a sick guy-er, turtle, huh?!_

He had only been running for ten minutes when a dark figure suddenly landed in front of his path, forcing the turtle to come to an abrupt halt.

"Michelangelo... its been quite some time, hasn't it?"

_Karai. _Eyes widening in surprise, Mike finally realized his mistake. He literally ran straight into a trap- he even brought the backup- all against him. _Smooth move, Mikester. You really screwed yourself this time. _

_"Aw, _there, there Michelangelo. Don't be too hard on yourself. You are sick, after all. I'm sure it was simply a clouded mind."

Mike opened his mouth to respond, snapping it shut at the amused look Karai was giving him at the minute. He fidgeted nervously as the ninja finally caught up and began to encircle the turtle. _No way out. No clear one, at least. _He lifted his hands to where his nunchukus sat in his belt- hovering just above them, fingers twitching as adrenaline fueled his rapid heartbeat.

For every step Karai took, Mikey took one back until he was pinned between a particularly beefy foot ninja and the equally insane Karai, clad in her Shredder costume or whatever the shell she calls it.

Mike's mind was on full-speed, thoughts whirring as fast as possible, each one coming up with a different means of escape and all the while his head was screaming "_Oh shell, oh shell, oh shell!" _His hand reached for his nunchukus, a small pinch on his left arm, the slight twisting of his wrists as his weapon whirled dangerously- one minute Mike was taking a clear hit on Karai, the next there was kick to his plastron. He fell to his knees with a grunt. _since when am I this tired? _ Mike looked up into the dark eyes of his enemy as suddenly his vision began to blur. _Oh, well thats sort...sort of new.. I think...oh..._ _I'm sorr-ry...bros... _

Just as darkness began to envelope the young turtle, Mike couldn't help reflecting how glad he was that he blacked out before he saw the triumphant sneer on Karai's face.

* * *

**_A/N:_ Again, Sorry for how incredibly short this is! I was actually planning on Raph being the one to get captured but decided against it so... I just _had _to end it here, y'know, for dramatic effect. REVIEW? Please?**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I know. I know. You can all throw imaginary sardines at me. I took forever, and I'm sorry. Hope this might suffice. PLEASE Review! (And sorry I didn't reply to everyone- believe me, I normally reply to everyone and I will for sure this go around- I was just THAT busy and...please review this time- I pinky promise to be better this time- scouts honor!) PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

It took every ounce of Raphael's self control to refrain from simply killing each and every ninja he was fighting. _Dangit, Mikey! _With a simple block and jab, another ninja was knocked out and, just as quickly, three more stepped in front of the red clad turtle. Mikey had disappeared from Raph's sight no more than two minutes ago and, seeing how there were atleast twenty-plus foot for each turtle, neither brother could reach one another. Raph had tried to warn them, of course, but it seems they had fallen into an admittedly clever yet dreadfully familiar and horribly obvious trap and, consequently, had been strategically separated from each other far enough to make the usual communication nearly impossible.

As two more ninja fell unconscious, Raph's eyes darted about searching for any means of escape. Frustration began to boil into rage as every opportunity for evasion was denied. In a rash and seemingly risky move, Raphael charged the two foot in front of him, sais spointed outwards, then, just as the foot began to turn around, he chucked three smoke bombs successfully blinding the surrounding foot ninja and with a burst of adrenaline, he ran.

* * *

_Aw, shell. I'm captured, aren't I? Dude, now I owe Raph ten bucks. Dang. Alright. Time to begin Michelangelo's Escape Plan Volume 38: How to Survive and Elude an Insanely Bipolar Master of Ninjitsu without Muttering a Single Word and/or Sound. Sick Edition. _With a soft sigh, he continued,_ Step one: open your eyes and kiss your otherwise pain free corneas goodbye. _

With a slight groan, two green eyes tentatively fluttered open only to widen in surprise at what surrounded the young turtle. _No way in SHELL. No no no no. Nonononono- I am NOT going through this, again!_ Hands tugged on the steel bonds, each time stronger than the last. Oh_ shell... oh no. _Emerald eyes darted in every direction absorbing every little thing within an optical view. _Breathing...its getting harder to...aw, calm down. What was it Donny said?_ The flourescent lights illuminating above. Deep_ breathes? _The shiny tables and the windowless doors. _Or was it the bend over?_ The security camera with its bird's eye view in the corner_._ _Find a happy place? _The various medical equipment surrounding him_. DANGET MIKE! THINK!_ A large set of scalples to the left of him. Its_ so hard to...so hard to think clearly... _Strapped to a table. _...can't...hardly...breathe..._

* * *

_Had to have atleast rivaled Mikey's record, _Raph mused to himself as he caught up to the later group of foot ninja. After a short moment to catch his breath, Raph jumped the seven ninja knocking the first two out in the process. A block and quick jab to another and one final swing move and a few punches later, Raph held a single foot by his uniform.

"Where's Mike?" he snarled. Upon his silence, Raph placed his sai on the ninja's neck, "Look. I ain't got no time for games, so I'll try this one more time," even through the mask the ninja looked terrified, with his voice close to a growl, Raphael continued slowly, "Where. Is. My. Brother."

* * *

Sharp gasps were all that could be heard within the small room keeping an unsteady beat as Michaelangelo struggled to control his respiration. _Almost...got it...deep breath...deeeeeeep breath. Good. Alright. No big deal. No one's in here... just like Don's lab... harmless, right?... yeah right... no! Calm, don't think that way...calm. Think about... about Klunk... and Raph... Don...Leo...they're probably wondering where I am!...calm...deep breath... okay._

_Now I need a plan...a good plan. Okay. Step Two: Escape the bonds As Soon As Possible..which isn't soon enough..._

After tugging on the bonds for a couple minutes, Mike had a rough idea of his predicament. Both hands were bound above his head within a sturdy metal which was then connected to a cliche lab table. Looking down, Michealangelo noticed his feet seemed to be bound by what had to be akin to whatever metal was pinning his hands down above his head, with both ankles and thighs strapped to the table.

_Yeesh, am I really that big of a threat to them? Alright...looks like I don't have much of a choice here, I'll have to get my hands out somehow...and unless all those spy movies I watched while being sick were the waste of time Leo claimed them to to be, then this trick ought to work...I'm sorry babies- but..._

An audible snap was heard as Mike broke both of his thumbs. A whimper escaped his lips as he slid his hands out of the metal clasps, his face contorting in silent pain. _Yowch! Ow ow owowowowow! Yikes! Aw, shell... that hurt worse than I thought it would._

Grabbing a nearby scalple, and repressing an involuntary shudder at the unwanted memories,the orange-banded turtle began unscrewing the clasps around his legs. Once free, he crept towards the door silently marveling at the lack of foot rushing in. _Surely they would have noticed me escaping...there's a camera right there!_

With a quick shrug of his shoulders, Mikey spotted a metal chair with a fake leather cushion in the corner of the room. With the use of his teeth he was able to remove two strands just barely long enough to tie each thumb just once. Taking a long deep breath, Mike opened the door just a crack.

* * *

_Oh, great! Foot headquarters! Thats just dandy- I have no backup and I'm about to sneak into FOOT. HEADQUARTERS. Shell. That foot better have told the truth._

From the building accross Karai's residence, Raph decided on a course of action... though he never said it was sane...

* * *

**Alright, I know its really short and you all probably hate me right now anyway and I basically just gave you another reason to hate me... but hear me out, alright? Okay. I finally have a slight plan for this story. To be honest, this plan will probably only survive three chapters- but I also have an ending, so basically its just whatever gets me to that ending and whatnot...So. Its short and yet another cliffhanger because A. I'm tired and want to sleep and B. Since I'm tired, I really won't do as good as I would like to but C. I really want to post what I have so far because honestly, I've made you guys wait long enough. So I'm really, really sorry- honest, I am and I'm gonna try to be a LOT better for the next chapter, okay? So if I promise all this- will you please leave me a nice review? Deal? =)**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


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